May I Have This Dance?
by MauditBelle
Summary: One-shot: Bucky comes home from a long day of work and breaks out the record player. Steve/Bucky. Pre-Capatain America.


_**I've been wanting to write something for Stucky since the new movie but couldn't think of annything until this little blob came along. I didn't even ship this until The Winter Soldier does that always happen to me? Oh well. I'm finally on summer break so I can write more! Woo! Whether I actually will get rounf to it or not is a different matter. Anyway, back to the story, it's pre-captain america, just normal Bucky and Steve living together and as you could guess, Stucky all the way.**_

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Steve craned his neck to read in the flickering light of the bulb. The soft yellow glow crackled across the page, illuminating the wonderful words of Charles Dickens. 'Just a couple minutes more, please,' Steve begged aloud to the lamp. Just until Bucky gets home, he silently added. Bucky was working overtime so they could pay the monthly bills, afford Steve's recurring medical needs, and mostly, survive. Steve felt so guilty, like he too had a responsibility to earn them some money. Instead it was just Bucky who worked long hours whenever and wherever to make ends meet.

A crash in the kitchen was followed by two things: Steve remembering he still needed to do the dishes, and then his prompt entry into the room, armed with his hardback book. There was no light, except the dim reflection of the streetlights creeping between the gaps in the curtains. Just enough for Steve to make out the faint silhouette of the intruder.

He slowly crept up behind the thief, taking great care to not make the wooden floor boards creek. Two more steps and he'd be right behind him. Steve delicately placed his foot forward, emitting a rubbery squeak from his shoes. Dammit, Steve mentally cursed. He hadn't taken them off as his toes were freezing without them. Upon hearing the noise, the intruder simultaneously flicked the lights on and spun on his heels to confront Steve.

Steve jumped as he felt the force of something soft yet firm being shoved into his face. In his panic, he inhaled sharply, forgetting the worst case scenario: chloroform. But what he discovered was unexpected. The sweet scent of fresh flowers penetrated his senses, and he opened his eyes once more. The person before him was far from an intruder.

Bucky stood there, his hair dishevelled, dirt smeared across his face, laughing at the look of horror on Steve's face. He failed at his attempt to conceal his joy with the substantially sized bunch of colourful flowers. 'Don't do that, Bucky!' Steve scolded, whacking him half-heartedly around the head. 'I could've hurt you!' Bucky let out another giggle at the notion of Steve trying to attack him. 'It's not funny!' Steve remarked, attempting to retain his dignity even though he knew it would most likely be an amusing event.

'What was that big crash?' Steve asked a now calm Bucky.

'I forgot my key and didn't want to wake you so I came through the window,' Bucky admitted, his cheeks tinted pink.

'Don't worry. I wasn't asleep anyway,' Steve replied.

'Here. For you, Stevie,' Bucky pushed the flowers into Steve's face once more, throwing in the affectionate nickname for good measure. Catching him off guard in doing so, Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve's slender waist, pulling him into a kiss. Steve squealed in surprise at the contact, but quickly returned the kiss with mirrored love and passion. Steve's hand found its way into Bucky's hair, running his fingers through the dirty, tangled hair.

As they broke away, Bucky's hand lingered on Steve's briefly. 'I'm gonna get a glass for the flowers. Thank you, Bucky, I love 'em' Steve scoured the cramped kitchen cupboards for a decent sized glass. Finally he found one of his mother's old ones and put the flowers in the windowsill.

The sound of the record player startled Steve. Neither of them ever touched the broken, old had picked it up for a couple of pennies from a guy who was going to scrap it. The records jumped and scratched, but who cares? It was better than nothing. Steve stepped into the room to see Bucky, slightly cleaner than 10 minutes ago, with his hand extended forward to Steve.

'What are you doing, Buck?' Steve asked, although deep part of him could guess the answer.

'You know, Stevie,' Bucky shot a wink his way.

Steve's cheeks turned a wonderful shade of pink, much to Bucky's delight.

'May I have this song?' Bucky asked with an irresistable smile. Paired with how beautiful he looked after a day's work, it was all Steve needed to say 'Yes,' and fumble into Bucky's arms.

With the record player churning out more scratchy music in the background, Bucky span Steve around the room, throwing the two of them into fits of laughter. How mad they would seem to the outside world, two lovers stuck in desperate times, dancing like that.

Looking up into Bucky's eyes, Steve cherished the precious moment. This was _his _Bucky. Not the same man who flirted with all the girls, the one getting quite a reputation. Just _his_ Bucky. Steve reached up to pull him into a kiss, his arms wound round his neck. Bucky ran his hands down Steve's body, resting on his hips, making Steve shiver and deepen the kiss.

They stayed in that cycle of dancing and expressing their love up until the very moment the record player completely packed up. Bucky span Steve one last time, lifting his light frame up in his arms, and rather ungracefully plopped them both on the couch. Steve curled up on Bucky's torso like a cat, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

'What's the special occasion, Buck?'

'For this?' Bucky asked. Steve nodded in response, too exhausted to formulate words.

'Because I love you, punk,' Bucky kissed the top of Steve's head, pulling him closer into his arms.

'I love you too, jerk,' Steve managed before falling asleep.

Bucky smiled into Steve's hair and closed his eyes.

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_**I might venture into this ship again, undoubtedly more one-shots like this. Let me know what you think of it.**_

_**:) **_


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